Terra Firma
by Temp-Err
Summary: 'Amantes sunt amentes' - lovers are lunatics! /Joshua GrahamxEdward Sallow/ This is my first attempt at slash-fiction, so please be gentle with me my dearest. It's pre-Legion Burned Man and Caesar, AKA Joshy and Eddy, so if you don't like that thing scamper on .. otherwise, please enter through the left door and take a seat 3. /Lime and Lemon in later chapters!/
1. I am Alpha

Author's Note: I've come to realise that it is immensely hard to write a fanfiction containing characters whose personalities are left up to the creator, the Courier for example. And I sometimes feel like it's a form of masturbation via story *looks around awkwardly*. So, in order to fuel my stress without annoying myself, which writing about characters I love does, I am going to try to write a slash fiction for the first time. I know that this genre can attract a few haters but I am prepared to battle off the shit storm if it means a few people enjoy it. :D

This is going to be a pre-Legion story about Joshua Graham X Caesar/Edward Sallow, if the topic makes bee's buzz in your bonnet then I suggest going elsewhere, otherwise ENJOY! As always I highly appreciate critique, though do try to be gentle about it since my self-esteem can only handle so much bruising and bashing. I'm also going to try and keep them in character and make the situations realistic, but since we don't know a whole lot about pre-Legion Graham and Edward it leaves a lot up to my imagination. *shuts up and raises the curtain*

"

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_He walked out in the grey light and stood and he saw for a brief moment the absolute truth of the world. The cold relentless circling of the intestate earth. Darkness implacable. The blind dogs of the sun in their running. The crushing black vacuum of the universe. And somewhere two hunted animals trembling like ground-foxes in their cover. Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it." _**- The Road**.

"If your enemy is hungry, feed him, if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good," the last lines of the scripture were sung from Graham's mouth like a soothing lullaby. All too often the man had to take solace in the words of God, they provided a warmth and comfort that transcended the capabilities of the mortal world and helped bring him faith and hope when faced with otherwise sombre situations. The Mormon knew a little too well that bad things happened to good people and that sometimes evil people prospered whilst the innocent perished, it was simply the way the world worked and a notion he had long since accepted. Have pity for all creatures, Graham would preach, for some suffer too much and others too little – but that's not to say he was always humble about it. Most evil people were seldom content to receive his generosity and pity, and it would have been extremely easy for the man to turn his nose up at such depravity, but that wasn't the Mormon's way nor was it the way he had been taught to behave. Even when in the presence of someone as petulant and harsh as a pissed off super mutant, he vowed to offer up a sympathetic word and a helpful hand. But by God, should he find the nerve to take the Lords name in vain, Edward sure knew how to pluck and twist at his beliefs.

The man was insufferable, to word things kindly, intolerably arrogant, egotistical, deplorable, and possibly a bit delusional. Barley 20 years old and already the young man's mind had been corrupted by the bleakness of life, his conscience already crippled to the ground and too world weary to hold faith in things such as God and forgiveness. Yes, if Graham had to count all of Edward's faults, of which there were many, and pin-point one as the most important, it would be his lack of forgiveness. While he was undoubtedly intelligent and tactical, traits which suited a good purpose in life, he seemed to lack any genuine joy or compassion. He'd only been travelling with the Follower's for a few days but already that truth had hit him. Often he'd watch Edward as they rested in camp and observe his mannerisms, never once did the man crack a smile or instigate conversation. It was as if the entire world was dead to him and only measurable truth was left of importance, something which would sooner destroy a man as it would enlighten him. Graham had tried to talk with him, he aimed to understand and connect with all people he met in his travels, especially those whom he ended up forming a group with, but the hostile man either ignored his words or took them as some sort of verbal challenge. Pointless conversation seems to irk Edward, and in his mind all conversations that lacked intellectual value were pointless. He had a remarkable habit of downplaying the worth of anything that disinterested him and an even more remarkable habit of turning such things into weaknesses. Of all the people Joshua Graham had met in his life, Edward Sallow was by far the most strange, albeit interesting.

"Overcoming evil with good," the man's petulant voice derailed Grahams train of thought and brought him back down to their current camp site, reminding him of his previous utterance from the book he still held firmly in his hands . "Shouldn't you have ditched such idle fantasies as a child?" Edward huffed and crossed his arms, narrowing his dark eyes in annoyance. "Feed your enemy, does your little group really believe that filth like Raiders and Fiends will be moved by such compassion, or better yet, extent the same courtesy?" It seemed the young man was on the war path and hunting for an argument, and argument his companion wasn't interested in being a part of. After a small moment of silence, Edward finally snapped. "Well?"

"Well what, Edward?" Finally succumbing to the man's prodding, Graham sighed and closed the book, placing it gently in his backpack before looking up to catch the other man's gaze. They were currently alone, though, Edward always seemed to be on his own – whether it was due to the man's general avoidance of others or their avoidance of him Graham would never know. Calhoun had been circling them earlier, trying to chat with Graham and get his advice on their current predicament, but had left quickly after draining whatever advice he could. It had become apparent that the Follower, who was equal parts curious as he was naïve, had no clue about the dangers of the outside world and was constantly second guessing his decisions. Hardly a fitting leader for the group but it wasn't Graham's place to judge. He figured it had been why the Follower's had been so eager to accept his help, having someone who knew the area well was better than stumbling blindly around in hopes of finding whatever it was they were looking for. It had taken a good hour to talk Edward into agreeing to it and even now he doubted the man was anything but frustrated by his presence, perhaps he felt intimidated by what he didn't understand, or simply put off by another person tagging along on an expedition he didn't want to be on in the first place. Both were likely in the Mormon's eyes and right now he sort of wished he hadn't offered to help them so extensively.

"Typical," Edward grunted, rolling his eyes and turning towards the camp fire in a deliberate attempt to show just how much more interesting it was than Graham.

"Do you have a problem, if so you should talk about it, emotional baggage is bad for the soul?" Graham couldn't stop smirking as he watched the man's face go from a look of boredom to a look of rage in what he counted as 2 seconds. It seemed he'd hit a sore spot, something worthy of noting.

"Emotional baggage, don't consider me so easily weighted down, I'm not some weak-willed pissant from some god awful back-water tribe," Edward's voice raised a few decibels as he began to defend himself. "I was merely acknowledging the fact that for being such a holier than thou preacher you hardly defend yourself or your beliefs."

"I do not preach the words of God, let alone to those who has made it blindingly clear they do not wish to hear them," Graham would have to congratulate Edward on genuinely offending him. "And I do not have to defend my beliefs, unlike you I am satisfied with knowing only of my own thoughts and principles, your lack of faith and adversity towards it does not make me uncomfortable." The tension that followed after his final statement could have been cut with a knife, and not even a particularly sharp one. Edward had gone a little red in the face and seemed to be battling with whatever words currently rolled around in his brain, he began to grind his teeth, another perk worthy of noting. Realising he was taking pride in getting under the man's skin, Graham quickly offered up an apology in hopes of not furthering the bleakness of their relationship, even if he'd only given the man the argument upon semantics that he desired. "My apologies, I did not mean to judge you so harshly."

"As if you're the first," Edward barked before Graham could even get his last word out, the man then kicked off of the ground and stormed over his tent with all the flare and drama of a scorned woman. Graham hated to admit it, but he'd been a little taken back by the words Edward had used. They were reminiscent of someone who had often fallen far from people's favour and thus not only become accustomed to it but content with settling for it. Intrigued, Graham turned to Calhoun who had begun to approach him the instant he spotted Edward heading off to bed.

"Joshua," Calhoun used his first name respectfully and thrust some maps of Arizona into his hands. "I was thinking we should take this path tomorrow, do you," he paused, "do you think it's a good choice?" His brown eyes widened in hope of the Mormon's approval, as if awaiting a well done and a pat on the head. Graham offered up no such response and simply nodded in agreement, though that apathetic action alone was enough to make Calhoun smile like a child who'd just been praised. "Great, I'll just tell Patrick-"

"You've known Edward for a long time haven't you?" Graham cut Calhoun off, his gentle voice making an otherwise rude gesture seem candid and acceptable. Running a hand through his dark hair, he didn't budge as the man sat down beside him, folding up the maps he had taken back a few moments ago and tossing them to the floor. "What I mean is," he realised he'd worded the question a little oddly. "You must know him well, being that you are both from the Followers of the Apocalypse in the same area?" Graham didn't know much of how the group operated other than that they tended to occupy large areas and consisted of people from very different backgrounds.

"Well, sort of." Calhoun was unsure as to why their newest companion was suddenly so interested in possibly their most unlikeable member, but didn't avoid the question. "We grew up together though we were never friends, if you can believe it," his cheap attempt at a joke left an awkward silence that he quickly moved on from. "In fact, I don't think I ever spoke more than five words to him before we left for this expedition." Calhoun raised a finger to his mouth as he began to ponder it, tilting his head from side to side. "Some of the other kids used to pick on him when we were younger because he was sort of strange," the head tilting appeared to not be helping with Calhoun's memory. "I remember this one time they graffitied his text book with," he stopped, it dawning on him that Graham probably wouldn't appreciate the cruel pranks of children. "Erm…"

"Family?" Realising that Calhoun would only continue to recall random information, Graham opted to start questioning him instead.

"Oh, I think his Dad died before he came to the Followers but his Mum was around for a while," Calhoun's tone drifted off a little as he shimmied closer to the fire and let it warm his hands. You'd never think the temperature could drop slow low given how hot it was during the day. "His Mum died about 7 years ago from illness, something in her head I think." Being a child himself at the time, it was reasonable that he wouldn't remember much.

"I see," Graham crossed his arms and leaned backwards, processing what he had just learnt. "A sad story, though not entirely uncommon these days," there was a little sympathy in his voice though he did well to hide it. "I myself-," Graham quickly stopped and collected himself, unwilling to divulge the information that had almost slipped from his mouth. "Never mind, thank you for talking to me Bill, it's good to know things about the people you travel." He stood up from the floor and paced past the fire Calhoun was still warming himself by, patting the man on the shoulder in a kind gesture as he did so. "I feel I must retire for the night however, less I not live up to you expectations as a guide tomorrow." They both chuckled and regarded each other with a slow nod before parting ways, Calhoun wandering back over to his friends while Graham went towards the tents. He paused beside Edward's tent, glancing at it nervously as he weighed out the odds of interrupting the volatile man. "Edward?" Deciding to take a gamble, Graham went to pull the tent flap back though was shocked backwards as the thing ripped back on what seemed to be its own accord. Edward's ashen face greeted him in not an overly welcoming manner, his clenched hand holding the material of the flap tightly.

"What is it, Mormon?" The disdain in the usage of his title was palpable though Graham let it slide, not wanting to give Edward more reason to dislike him even if the reasoning was unfair.

"You enjoy reading, yes?" Many a time Graham has spotted the man flicking through a book during their rare moments of rest in the day and then reading intently at night while the others conversed. It was possibly the only thing the two could relate on and a common trait he intended to abuse. "Well, I have some books you might find interesting." Bringing his bag to rest on his knee, Graham began to rummage around for said books, hoping that Edward did indeed find the items at least minimally interesting. "Ah, here we go," he spoke as he brandished one of the books, the red cover of the thing appearing black in the darkness of the night. He watched intently as Edward took it and observed it with interest, his expression otherwise unreadable for a short while.

"The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire," Edward spoke the title quickly and then looked to Graham for an explanation. Little knowledge was left over of the Roman Empire and few people cared to learn about it, even Edward considered it a rather boring and primitive civilisation – but then he only knew the dregs of what was there. But reading material was reading material and a welcome way to pass the time; hence Graham was a bit warmed by the rare smile Edward offered to him, a good sign he'd taken the olive branch which had been presented. "What do you want for it?" The smile was gone in an instant and Edward was back on the defence.

Graham held his hands up, letting his bag fall back down to his side as he did so. "I don't want anything, I just noticed that you enjoyed books and thought you might appreciate a new one," he thought for a second. "Think of it as a gift." The reaction of the man now clutching the book and inching back into the tent suggested he wasn't used to such notions. "I can't remember where I picked it up and haven't actually had the time to read it myself, so maybe you can read it and tell me about it." Graham swallowed hard and smiled awkwardly, he'd never found it so hard to be on good terms with someone.

Edward had backed up enough into the tent that he currently had to strain to hold the flap open, he finally responded after dropping the book onto the bedroll beneath his bare feet. "I'll read it, even if it's shit," his terse voice was comfort enough for the Mormon who hadn't really expected any other form of thanks. The man then turned his back on Graham and went to let go of the tent door, a good sign he was ready to crawl back off into his little world. "Thanks," he suddenly retorted, apparently finding it easier to be thankful when not looking at the person.

"You are welcome," Graham managed to respond without stuttering; a little shocked at receiving a thank you from the likes of Edward. "Sleep well." The man then swiftly left, leaving the curious scene behind and travelling towards his own tent.

As Graham walked away he felt as if he'd just climbed the first step towards understanding the atypical Follower of the Apocalypse and was, to say the least, greatly happy about it. Reaching unreachable people and showing them the goodness of God's generosity was in his nature after all and at that moment it seemed as if he'd managed to break through some of the amour Edward put up. A small ray of light, he liked to think, and in the glee of the moment he really had no idea of the rock-slide he had just instigated. Drawing back the material of the door and entering his tent, Graham sat down on his own bedroll and took out one of the scriptures he had been reading previously. He hummed lightly as he traced a delicate finger along a certain line, muttering it without acknowledgment, "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and gathered fish of every kind. When it was full, men drew it ashore and sat down and sorted the good into containers but threw away the bad," Graham struggled to read the last line in the current blackness. "So it will be at the close of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the fiery furnace," he paused to contemplate the words. "In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." Graham finished reading and closed the book, leaning back onto the rather uncomfortable bed. Sleep slowly took over him however thanks to the strenuous day, his body apparently losing its pickiness over what was considering suitable to sleep on and ignoring the stabbing of ricks which pricked his back. 'In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth', the line played over in his head, spinning webs between his thoughts as he drifted off slowly.

…_terra firma._

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Ending Note: *hangs head in shame* I'm sorry that was so short and…well, yeah. I'm trying to get the characters into my head so I can portray them how I think they would have behaved post-Legion-OMGAWD-KILL-EVERYONE! I always pegged Calhoun as a bit meek, especially around the headstrong Edward who I reckon was a bit of an unpredictable dick head xD. Graham on the other hand I saw like an optimistic and wise young man who was all too forgiving of others and willing to accept their faults. I also liked the idea of Graham actually being the one to introduce Edward to the concept of the Roman Empire, I think it would have just added to his guilt later on, knowing he could be considered the cause of everything. Yeah, I don't really have anything else to say other than *takes breath*I PROMISE I'LL GET BETTER. I know I'm not exactly the best writer but I really do try and hopefully you don't hate me now and will leave a review. :D Reviews make me happy!


	2. Altered my Colour

**Authors Note: ** I do apologise for the late update, University was kicking my arse and I had to move into my new apartment also (which didn't have internet, FUUUUUU-). But anyway, here is the second chapter for y'all, just a heads up … I rather don't like this chapter since I wrote it in two parts with about a month in between them. So, please take pity on me and read with an open mind xD. I'm not the most descriptive or capable writer at the best of times but I'm really enjoying writing this story, so a few reviews would be nice. Also, PEOPLE, please tell me what you want to see happen, yeah :O. I don't want to rush their relationship so I'm trying to drop in some hints subtly, however the next chapter however will have a kiss in it! Have fun and see you in chapter three which will be out within the next week or so.

**- Temp**

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"**I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, **

**and changed my ideas; **

**they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, **

**and altered the colour of my mind." -** **EmilyJane Bronte**

_Suffocating warmth – no, burning! Edward sensed the world around him cloud and with it grew a deep sense of fear, a fear he remembered. The sound of screaming combined with yelling created an odd mélange of intangible and confusing emotions in the ambience of the night. Or at least, Edward thought it was night, how long had he been asleep? The burning quickly became too much and jolted the 'man' from the bed, though as he landed he heard a rather soft noise as opposed to the loud thump an adult would make. The weariness of a dream stopped Edward from questioning it and instead his psyche merely accepted the memory and once again forced him to live it out. Fumbling forwards, his body reacted and moved without direct thought and quickly took him to the door of the bedroom. Clasping the metal handle, the boy – who couldn't have been older than two – recoiled and whimpered when the scolding thing sizzled and burnt in his hand. _

_Outside was hell on earth. The small village dotted close to the Boneyard was hardly ready for Raider attacks, let alone the full scale assault they were now in the midst of. People scrambled to gather their things and escape, and though some made it most were gunned downed at the legs and pulled back into the burning settlement. The able men and women tried to hold off the savages, but the chaos of the burning buildings and the shroud of night caused confusion and disorientation. Sheriff Hoyt was at the front lines and trying to take charge, signalling the people back and trying to order them away – he wasn't a foolish man, he knew the situation was helpless and the only rational option was to flee. _

"_HOYT, HOYT!" A man's voice somehow managed to break through the shrieking and laughter, laughter solely on the Raiders part who were apparently having the time of their lives pillaging the peaceful settlement. The Sheriff turned quickly, revolver smoking in his right hand, and stared at the tall and frantic man. "Have you seen Alison and Edward?" The worry spread from his eyes to the rest of his features as Sheriff Hoyt shook his head, both men turning to stare at the line of houses that current burnt. "I'll-I'll be back." Spotting one house near the end, the man ran off to find his wife and child. "Martin, wait," Hoyt tried to call out and stop him, but furrowed his eyebrows as his friend vanished. He turned back to group of Raiders heading his was and dipped into his pocket to draw out some more ammo. Readying his revolver, he began to fire. _

_Martin used the sleeve of his jacket to shield his hand as he pulled their front door open, the white hot handle still managing to phase through the material and burn him. Wafting the smoke away, he ignored the pain and advanced into the slowly falling house. "Alison!" Calling out, the husband desperately searched for his wife who he'd foolishly told to stay in the house when the gunfire started. How was he to know the Raiders intended to kill everyone as opposed steal their supplies? "ALISON! EDWARD!" _

"_Daddy," a small voice whined from the kitchen, drawing Martin into a panicky sprint and into said room. Upon entering, he located his young son cowering under the dining table, hugging his small body inwards in fear, fist clenched and nursing the burn he had acquired from the door._

"_Edward, come here, come on!" Martin reached under the table and scooped the toddler up, holding him close to his chest to try and shield him from the smoke and flames. He made the decision to leave the house then, Alison was nowhere in sight and had either left or died. It wasn't the time to try and recover her body if the latter were true – he had to save his child. _

_Leaving the house behind, Edward clutched desperately to his Dad's chest and buried his face, though the pressure did little to block out the horrendous noises that surrounded them. However, whatever comfort he gained from his Father's hold was suddenly ripped from him by a single shot that tore through Martin's thigh, causing him to topple to the side. _

"_ACK," Martin cried out as he hit the floor, grabbing the wound to try and stem the bleeding. Edward had managed to keep a hold until they hit the ground, meaning he'd not fallen far from him, but the fear quickly churned his stomach and filled him with dread. _

"_Well, well, what 'ave we here?" Someone hissed from behind them, a distinctly raspy male voice that sent shivers up Martin's back. "Rats scurrying from the sewer," the voices owner advanced on them and then walked into view. He was about 6ft tall with a beaten face and scarred build, the sort of person who screamed cutthroat Raider or Fiend. "Oi mate, tell you what," the Raider grunted as he delivers a sharp kick to Martin's gut, making the man groan and double over. "You give us some psycho and I'll let you go, fair deal yeah?" With a small shrug, the drug-addicted Raider smirked and cocked an amused eyebrow._

"_I don't have," Martin cried out. "I don't have any but, but I have money, please, take whatever you want." It was not the time for dignity, pleading and bribery seemed to be his only options. The man's worried eyes shifted from the Raider's face to Edward's small body for a brief second, but it was enough to alert the man to the child's presence. _

"_Whatever I want huh?" The Raider followed Martin's gaze to see the small child, trembling and keeping quiet. "I reckon I could make a few caps outta this little lad," kids did make good slaves after all, "consider it a deal-," his words were cut off by a smack to the head that caused his large body to drop to the floor. _

_Martin swiftly stood up, adrenaline making him blind to the searing pain in his thigh, and went to collect Edward from the floor. His kids face changed from a hopeful smile as his Dad reached out to him, to a look of terror that didn't make sense until a meaty hand wrapped itself around his ankle. _

"_Wrong move, buddy," the Raider's raspy voice was back, accompanied by the cold clicking of a gun. Martin barely had time to turn and look down before the trigger of the gun was pulled, his last image being that of his killers amused grin. _

_It all happened in an instant and Edward's young mind couldn't really comprehend his Father's cold dead corpse at his feet, nor the strange warm red stuff sticking to his hands and face. His big eyes began to water as he watched the Raider stand up and crack his neck in a cavalier fashion, stepping over his Dad's dead corpse and proceeding to stalk towards him. _

_The nameless Raider's face faded as he got closer_, the memory abruptly twisting and drifting away until it was seemingly ripped back with a snap that caused Edward to shoot up from his bedroll, the feeling of two firm hands gripping his shoulders bringing forth a sudden panic.

"Edward it's me," Graham bolted backwards, narrowly avoiding being head-butted by his companion, though the blood quickly rushed to his face as he felt a pair of strong hands grip around his throat. Edward's eyes were wide and feral, sweat trickling down his forehead and causing his dark hair to stick to it messily.

Tension bit at the Mormon, and not daring to move too much Graham just reached up and simply placed his own hands onto those of his attacker, trying to rouse him from whatever nightmare he had, and seemed to still be, experiencing. "Edward, it's me," he made sure to keep his voice soft and smooth. The contact seemed to work and the vice like hold around his throat lessened until it dropped completely. Graham took a deep breath in without really thinking and swallowed hard, staring at the pistol beside Edwards sleep roll and currently counting his lucky stars that the man hadn't reached for that during his panic.

He'd been up earlier than the others, such were his ways, and had heard the strange noises coming from Edward's tent. It had only been when he heard a soft uncharacteristic whimper that Graham had decided to investigate. When he drew back the flap he'd found the man in quite a state and had called out to Calhoun, figuring he'd know what was going on as opposed to the ideas of a stranger.

Calhoun had staggered sleepily from his own tent, taking a few moments to respond to Graham and even then having nothing of value to offer. Was the man having a fit? A panic attack? In the end, Graham had opted to try and shake Edward from whatever was plaguing him, discovering quickly that the man had been asleep and having a nightmare.

"Edward, it's okay now," still trying to calm him, Graham smiled sympathetically and stayed holding his hands, giving them a small and reassuring squeeze. He observed as Edward tried to compose himself, looking from his held hands to Graham's gentle face, features rather sullen and muddled. However, as soon as he spotted Calhoun, who was hanging around outside the tent and occasionally peaking in to get a better look, he ripped his hands free and shot them both a sharp look – no doubt mixed with a bit of embarrassment as well.

There was an uncomfortable silence between the three that wasn't broken untill Edward pushed off of the ground and barged past Graham and Calhoun – nearly knocking the former completely over due to his kneeling position and grunting in annoyance at them both. Whatever anxiety he had just experienced had quickly been channelled into embarrassment, which had then worked its way into rage.

Graham stood up, his gaze following Edward who was now storming out of their campsite. Calhoun cleared his throat and drew his attention, sharing a look of concern before speaking. "What happened?" It was a seemingly innocent question that on reflection was also a bit stupid, hence Graham didn't respond.

"Go back to sleep Bill, you were up later than everyone else and we need you refreshed for tomorrow." Smiling at Calhoun, Joshua bowed his head and made off after Edward who was currently still pacing away from their camp – his strides angry and lacking in direction. Pausing to look at random points, it appeared to Graham that his 'new friend' must have realised there was nowhere to go and the man suddenly dropped down onto a nearby rock (a most contemptuous expression on his face which caused Graham to approach with caution).

"Edward," voice filled with concern, Joshua stopped just short of the rock and observed the rather tired looking Edward shift uncomfortably and pick at some of the moss on the stone. Random pieces of rotten plant were peeled and flicked to the floor, their existence acting as a good distraction. "Edward," Graham spoke a little louder this time and pushed forwards, sitting down besides him and resting his gaze on his face as if willing it to respond.

"What?" Another slither of moss was torn from the stone and then rolled into a mushy ball between Edward's fingers. With a flick, they both watched as the plant bullet soared away, disappearing into the murkiness of the dawn. Silence fell between them again and Edward had to look to the ground to keep his voice steady, feeling heavy under Graham's intense stare. "I don't have to explain myself to you," his words were defensive, as most of his words were.

Graham raised a hand to the red hand marks of his neck and cocked an eyebrow, inwardly thinking that he was somewhat owned an explanation due to the attack but unwilling to distance Edward further by interrogating him. "Don't mistake my concerns for prying," he tried to pick his words carefully, knowing already how changeable Edward could be. "But understand that I am always here if you need someone to talk to." Graham looked to the ground, having read the others's expression as one of indifference; he deemed the probability of a 'heart-to-heart' as a big fat zero.

Distracted from the man's features, he followed his gaze downwards to stare at Edward's hands. His light eyes widened a little when the man merely opened his left hand to brandish the marred flesh. The skin was slightly indented and discoloured at the centre of the palm with a few other discolorations and scars around the joints and at the pads of the finger tips. The marks were obviously burns and obviously relevant to whatever had transpired earlier in the tent and figuring Edward had shown him them for a reason, he guessed it was safe to question the old wounds. "How did you get those?" Brown eyes locked with his own upon hearing the question, raw and almost … forlorn.

"It happened a long time ago," Edward tactfully avoided the question, "but now it's just a memory, nothing more." He clenched and unclenched his fingers in a rhythmic motion, a gentle breeze blowing the material of his plain shirt and giving him the chance to let out a subtle sigh – one which had probably been held in the entire time.

"A memory of what?" Graham watched Edward's fingers carefully, more trying to focus on the scar than the flexing digits – attempting to read from the placement as to what had caused it.

"Weakness." Edward's answer caught Graham off guard, and upon looking up he realised that the others lost stare had turned rather fierce and reminiscent of an animal about to turn-tail and run.

Not wanting Edward to leave, Joshua moved to touch him without thinking. The other didn't budge though when he reached out with his own paler hand, nor did he flinch as his fingers found their way to the man's palm and began to run circles across the mark. The air between the two seemed to thicken, making it seem un-breathable.

Something fleeting flashed across Edward's face, and if it had been a clearer morning Joshua would have sworn he saw the other's cheeks turn a little pink – his face looking out of breath and fazed. It hadn't ever really dawned on Joshua until now, but he realised that he'd never seen Edward touch or be touched by anyone (if you forgave the throttling incident earlier). So now, with his fingers currently brushing and touching over a piece of skin which brought back such memories, Graham felt oddly close to the man and possibly a little bit smug.

The feeling was cut short though as Edward snapped his fingers closed and ripped his palm away, apparently the touch getting a little too intimate for his liking, Graham having moved his fingers from the palm to touch up his wrist.

"I'm sorry I-," Joshua didn't really know what to say or why he had touched him like that. Confused and a bit ashamed, he quickly stood up and brushed the dust from the back of his trousers. Glancing down at Edward briefly, he smiled nervously and then looked to the horizon. "The sun is nearly up, we should get packed and on our way else we'll hit the afternoon heat before we reach shelter," the words came out a little uneven and rapid. Graham stepped back and turned slowly, clearing his throat and pocketing his hands, beginning to stride away from the awkward situation and towards the others who were still back at camp.

"It was a door handle," Edward called out after him, halting the man mid-step and causing him to half-turn.

"Pardon me?" In truth Graham had heard him, he just wanted a repeat so he could clarify what had been said and discern what it meant. 'Door handle' was pretty vague after all.

"I burnt my hand trying to open a door," Edward whispered as he too stood up, regarding the small pile of peeled moss in boredom before walking towards Graham and then straight past him without so much as a sideways glance. He granted no other revelations or information as he marched back into the camp, just the vague image of him trying to open a door with a handle hot enough to scold. But even that, in all its ambiguity, felt like an accomplishment, and Graham couldn't stop a warm smile spreading across his face as he too walked back to Calhoun and the rest of the Followers. The former tried to catch his attention with a waving of the hands before finally giving up and approaching him directly (after he'd made sure they were out of Edward's line of sight of course).

"Well?" Bill crossed his arms and leaned on one foot, as if he deserved some sort of clarification also. And though Joshua knew it was all well-intended, he instantly felt the need to defend Edward from the other Followers who knew so little about him. Bill looked utterly beaten as he was ignored for the duffle bag situated by the camp fire, Graham bypassing the question and just beginning to pack quietly. "Didn't tell you anything huh?" The Follower seemed to feel obligated to back himself up and assume the silence meant Graham hadn't gotten an answer, apparently unwilling to accept the fact the guy didn't want to share. "Don't be offended or anything, the man's a fortress."

Sliding some maps into his bag, Joshua finally responded. "All fortresses have doors, Bill," he grabbed some bottles of purified water out from under a makeshift log bench and bagged them also. "Some just have more locks." And with that, he swung the duffle bag over his shoulder and walked off with new purpose and stride.

* * *

Joshua's previous concerns about not reaching shelter before the afternoon sun soon became more than just concerns; they were now fully fledged alarm bells ringing in his head. The sun beat down on the group mercilessly and the increased heat wave was causing their water supply to rapidly deplete. They were slowly moving into the territory of dangerous, something which was playing heavily with the sensible heads of the group. What had started out as apprehensions about the hostile wildlife was now turning into a battle for water and shade. You'd think a group of Doctors would be more prepared.

"Hold up," one of the Followers signalled the rest of the group before stopping to rummage around in her bag. She brought out a bottle of water and thirstily finished the content, staring at the empty thing with worry as she watching the last droplets trickled around inside. "Bill, do the maps show any lakes around here?" Her weary eyes looked to the man for confirmation as she waved the now empty bottle around in the air, implying the problem..

"Ermm, if you'll just give me a minute," Bill staggered and muttered as he dropped his own bag, ripping the thing open and digging around for said maps. Random items fell out and rolled around as Bill hunted, scattering left and right in his hurry. The rest of the Followers just wandered around aimlessly, looking into the distance to occupy their time while their de-facto leader did all the work.

Edward moved further out than the rest of them, the dusty ground crunching beneath his boots as he stepped across the cliff-face and glanced out to the skyline. Bringing a hand to his face to shield the sun's rays from his face, he squinted and tried to make out a greyish shimmer in the distance. Preoccupied, he didn't hear the person approaching.

"I'd say that was a lake, wouldn't you?" Graham seemed to manifest behind the shorter man, his abrupt comment making Edward jump a little and swiftly spin around in some mock battle stance. He calmed when he realised it was only Joshua.

"Looks to be it, but it's a good two hours walk away and the rest of the _crew_ look ready to keel over and die," Edward referred to their group as a 'crew' in a less than sincere manner. "In fact, I don't think they'll make it." He turned back to stare at the distant lake. "Might be worth it just for that," the snide joke made Joshua chuckle lightly, though the sound of approaching footsteps hushed him.

"Did you two find something?" Bill interrupted their conversation casually, approaching them with numerous rolled up maps, a mass of campuses and the look of a man in deep need of some help. "Because I can't find anything on here, it's like we've walked into no man's land," he chuckled nervously.

"Well that's reassuring," Edward didn't look to Bill as he mocked him and instead walked over to the edge of the cliff to peer out again. "There's a lake over there but it'll take us up to two hours to reach it," he placed his hands on his hips as he spoke. "Reckon you'll survive?" A wicked smirk crossed Edward's face.

"What do you-?" Bill stopped himself before he responded to Edward's obvious antagonising comments, looking to Graham for support but finding nothing on the man's face except an amused glance directed at the petulant culprit. Feeling a bit betrayed, he swallowed his annoyance and replied amicably. "We don't really have a choice now do we, but I'm sure the others have rationed their water enough to make it in one piece," Bill didn't exactly sound convinced.

"We'll have enough water between us, if we share," Graham held both hands out, palms facing the sky. "It's not every man for himself after all so don't fret," he placed a hand on Calhoun's shoulder, ignoring the snort from Edward.

"You're right; I think the heat is just getting to me." Reassured by Graham's words, Bill let out a relieved sigh and ran a hand through his hair before dragging it down to wipe some sweat from his face. "Everything has gone smoothly far, after all-"Whatever comfort he had found was promptly kicked into the ground by sod's law as a wild howl sounded from the rock face that overlooked them.

All three turned in unison to stare, three sets of eyes widening in disbelief and fear as they saw the dribbling and snarling mouth of a very unsmooth and very hungry Deathclaw. Bill dropped the maps on cue and let out a choked noise, backing up slowly and away from Graham and Edward – who were both equally frozen to the spot and currently unable to comment upon the irony of his last statement.

"Run," Graham whispered, breaking the silence and watching as the Deathclaw lowered its vile body to the ground, the hulking mass bending and twisting in a predatory manner. Claws ripped into the cliffside causing shards of rock to tumble down and sprinkle on the ground, scattering by their shoes until rolling to a stop. "RUN!" Graham yelled again, just as the creature lunged down at them, mouth open ravenously.

Bill had an easy head start being that he was closer to the trek down the hill, hence the man headed Joshua's words, turned and then bolted away before the Deathclaw landed. The force of the creatures landing broke into the ground; its clawed feet scratching into the rock and kicking up anything lose in its path. Curiosity made Bill look back and it was adrenaline the stopped him running further. Edward and Graham were cornered, unable to make it far enough away from the cliff side before the animal landed and blocked them off. They were both trapped!

Edward backed off until the edge of his boot disturbed lose rock, debris chipping away and falling down the cliff side. He turned and stared down at the chasm, eyeing it unusually before turning to stare at the Deathclaw who was currently flipping its snarling head between them and Bill as if deciding which it wanted to go for. Two meals were better than one it seemed, for the Deathclaw turned its spiny back on Calhoun and began to advance on Joshua and Edward. The look on the former's face suggested he was deciding whether to run or try and help them – it was suicide to take on a Deathclaw but his conscience was battling to make him help them.

"For fucks sake run you idiot," Edward screamed at Bill, fed up with the man's inability to act. He was suddenly thrown to the side and the wind knocked out of him, narrowly avoiding being ripped into two by the creature's mad swipe, his yell just appearing to startle and piss the creature off more.

Graham, who had tackled Edward out the way, landed harshly on the floor and grunted in pain as protruding pieces of rock stabbed into him. Dust flew up from the ground and blinded him, though he could just make out Bill charging down the hill yelling something about getting help. "Edward?" Rubbing the grit from his face, he looked around desperately for the man who had been next to him moments ago and spotted him crawling away. "Edward get over here-" his sentence was cut off by the creature going for him again and him barely avoided losing his head to the things jaws. Rolling to the side, the man had unintentionally moved further away from the Deathclaw, and the creature, spotting Edward, decided that the other was a far easier target given his current proximity and delirium. It charged over to him, hands ripping anything in its path and splintering rock left and right.

"EDWARD STAY DOWN!" Joshua had little time to think and quickly reached into the waistband of the back of his trousers, drawing a concealed gun and cleaving it through the air to aim. His fired 5 shots in successions, halting the monster of a thing just as it was about to make paintwork of his friend. The bullets did sod all mind you and just pierced the back of the Deathclaws armour, but it got its attention at least and pulled it away from Edward who was still on the ground. "MOVE IT!" Graham called to Edward, trying to force the startled man to run, but his attention seemed elsewhere as he stared up at the large rock the creature had jumped down from previously. Mirroring Edward, Graham too turned to look but promptly wished he hadn't as he saw a second Deathclaw approaching them. "Right, they hunt in packs," he muttered. As if they needed more reason to be pissing themselves, chances were they were surrounded by the things.

The second Deathclaw snarled and crouched down, leering at them while the first advanced on Graham, barren eyes both terrifying and deadly. There was no way he could take one on let alone two of the things, and Edward seemed either unarmed or unable to help. Weighing up the odds in his head, he turned to stare down the chasm as if the thing might offer up a lick of hope. Graham chuckled lightly and muttered a low prayer, as it was just then he had spotted what they missed earlier. Turning to face Edward, who was approximately 20 feet away from him along the cliff side, he caught his attention. "Edward, can you swim?"

The man in question shot Graham a look of disbelief. "What sort of question? At a time like this - NO!" Edward looked somewhere between angry and fucking hysterical as he replied, probably busy counting down the seconds until they were both shredded and eaten.

"Right, of course you can't." Without another word, Joshua ran past the Deathclaw and grabbed Edward, throwing them both to the side and off the edge of the cliff - leaving the damned creatures roaring and howling above them as the duo descended into the abyss below.

Holding onto Edward, Graham closed his eyes and tried to stem the wriggling and flailing of his panicked body (maybe a little warning should have been issued). The air turned bitter and cold during their fall, the wind biting and whipping at their clothing and hair, flipping it around in sporadic manners. Opening one eye, Graham saw a shimmer of grey and felt a small pinch of dread before the world surrounding him went black.

Plunged into the murkiness, the shock knocked all sense from Graham and he was left powerless to do much as they both sunk into the cold depths.

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